


Calligraphy

by neaf



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: M/M, Rough Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-10
Updated: 2013-04-10
Packaged: 2017-12-08 02:08:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/755758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neaf/pseuds/neaf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darren and Matt get to know each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calligraphy

When they finished filming for the day, Darren didn’t have to ask if Matt wanted to come back with him for a drink. They’d just walked together, still laughing, still telling stories and cracking jokes, talking about everything and nothing at the same time.

Matt was something different, something new. After a year with the cast, and just over a month with another, Darren was used to adjusting to a different beat, a new rhythm. But Matt was a strange kind of calm in the rapids, something sweet and easy that felt like home. And Darren hated that they only had a week.

By the third beer he was sure he’d lost most of his vocabulary, wondering if he actually did just say fucking this-or-that six times in one sentence when suddenly Matt was very still, and watching him too carefully.

Darren’s open grin faded slowly, and he shifted in his seat, unsure of what to say next.

“I should go,” Matt said lightly, eyes too bright and too blue in the harsh yellow light of the trailer.

When he swayed over for a hug, Darren wrapped both arms around him tight. It was instinct, it was just the way his body worked - some incessant need for the biggest kind of everything.

He closed his eyes and sank in, revelling too long in the feel of being caught inside something stronger and larger than he was. When Matt’s hands slipped down his back, gliding over shoulder blades before they settled at his waist, Darren shuddered with sudden awareness.

The sharp flare low in his belly made his hips twitch, and he bit back a whimper at the exquisite, heated panic shooting up his spine. It had been so long. He’d almost forgotten.

But Darren was never very good at saying what he really wanted.

It felt like minutes before Matt pulled away, but he didn’t go very far, just slipped back far enough to fix Darren with dark eyes and a devious smile curling one corner of his mouth.

Darren barely sucked in a gasp before their mouths were crashing together, hard and unforgiving, the perfect slide of teeth and tongue, and stubble on his skin. He couldn’t stop the whine, the slightly pathetic sound that poured out of him when Matt’s hands gripped his hips tight enough to bruise, pulling him in.

His fists were in Matt’s shirt already, needy and desperate, dragging him down on top as he rocked back. His own way of asking, of showing what he needed, out of his control as his body took over and his hips pressed up, begging for friction.

Matt shoved him into the couch and climbed over his body, eyes bright and electric as he propped up on both arms either side of Darren’s head.

“How long has it been?” he asked breathlessly, grinning and sliding fingers into Darren’s hair to tug his head back roughly.

“Fuck,” Darren hissed, eyes falling shut. “C-college.”

Matt sank down on top of him, fist tightening in his curls. Darren cried out when Matt pulled back harder to expose his neck, to make him arch, licking a path up a prominent vein and dragging his teeth back down.

When he came up again, the kiss felt like a head-butt, brutal and fast and needy, bruising Darren’s lips and forcing him down. He scrambled as Matt’s hands pinned his wrists to the cushions, and went limp, took whatever he was given, writhing and whimpering when Matt let go and started stripping clothes away at a dizzying speed.

Darren shifted to accommodate him, stripping off his shirt and throwing it before Matt shoved him back down again, kissing and biting at his lip, moving lower to drag his tongue along Darren’s pulse.

“Oh, _fuck,_ ” Darren ground out, pinned and helpless and loving every second of it. “God.”

He felt the vibration of Matt’s chuckle in his throat before the awareness sank in. Matt was heavy on top of him, too heavy and crushing his body into the cushions, and it was everything he’d forgotten he always needed.

“Rough, I’m guessing,” Matt said casually with a nip to Darren’s jaw, a little too much teeth and a smirk at the sound he was rewarded with. “Very rough.”

“ _God,_ yes,” Darren puffed out quietly, body shaking, trying to draw in whatever air he could.

He’d always been so gentle with his partners. He’d always taken the time to make them feel good, drive them crazy, intense and slow and deliberate. He’d had his fair share of hard and fast, too, but nothing like this. Darren had plenty of kinks, plenty of experience, but nobody had ever met with the fantasy in the back of his mind, the one he never talked about. The deep an unspoken desire to be owned, possessed and _taken_ , to be manhandled, and bruised, and fucked so hard he couldn’t stand up properly for days.

Matt raked his pants down his hips mercilessly, lifting his legs, pulling his ass up like he weighed nothing. For the first time in a long time, Darren felt like a rag doll under the power of someone so much stronger, and he couldn’t ignore the sharp thrills that rode down his spine and settled in his groin because of it. 

He braced both hands on the couch, fisting handfuls of cushion just to keep from falling apart when Matt sank further down, biting inside his thigh, fingernails raking over the soft skin of his belly. Matt’s arms caged his hips, wrapped around them like a lock, and Darren whined pathetically at the urgency he felt, the way his body tried to thrust and buck against Matt’s grip, dizzy with need and the strain of his achingly hard cock.

Darren keened, long and low, when Matt’s tongue slipped over him first, followed by the perfect, flooding heat of his mouth. He could hear his own breathing, sharp and hard on the air, punctuated by obscene, wet noises as Matt sucked him. He twitched desperately, moaning and thumping his head back against the cushions at the strong fist that was pumping his cock, and the tight, expert slide of Matt’s lips. 

When the top edge of Matt’s teeth grazed over his shaft lightly, Darren let out a shattered sound, jerking against the powerful lock of Matt’s arms and twisting to bury his face against the cushions. “FUCK!”

“Mmmm,” Matt hummed as he pulled up, smirking at the delicious staccato twitches that rippled visibly up Darren’s body. He lowered his head again, sliding his slick tongue down the underside and grazing his lips over each ball in turn. 

“Lube?” he asked.

“Fuck,” Darren choked out. “I - I don’t think I have- any?”

“Bullshit,” Matt insisted.

Darren’s brain tried to reconnect to his body, working his way around the trailer mentally, trying to think of anything. _Fuck, there has to be something._

“OH!” he lifted his hand, ignoring the burst of pins and needles that shot down his arm as the muscles unclenched. “Bathroom. There- there should be a bottle left in the drawer.”

Matt rose to his knees with a grin, hooking his arm under Darren’s knee and flipping him over onto his stomach before he climbed off the couch. 

Face down and trying to blink, trying to breathe, Darren heard Matt’s shoes fall to the linoleum, followed by the rustle of clothes and the sharp thump of his belt buckle.

He was struck with the sudden awareness that he, himself, was already naked, open and exposed on his own couch, and how did Matt get his clothes off so fast? Where - where were his clothes?

A sharp slap to his ass drew him back to reality in a rush, and he let out a gravelling, broken noise as heat built in the wake of Matt’s palm, the ripple of pain and pleasure shooting straight to his cock, trapped against the cushions. 

“Jesus christ,” Matt said softly, sliding his hand over the red mark on Darren’s ass and up the muscles of his back. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”

Darren let out a huff of laughter, trembling gently in the cool air. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“I’m serious,” Matt said, and Darren could hear the click and squelch of the lube bottle somewhere behind him. 

A hand pushed at his hip, guiding him up onto his knees just slightly before it ghosted down the soft skin of the back of his thigh.

“ _Fuck,_ ” Matt breathed.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate your approval—”

“But can I please stick something in your ass already?”

“Yesexactlythankyou.”

Matt’s laugh was soft and sweet, a sharp contrast to the man that had pinned him and blew him within an inch of his life less than a minute ago.

He felt the cool sweep of the lube down the centre of him and jolted, settling his cheek against the cushion and closing his eyes as Matt’s fingers slipped up and down, too soft and too smooth.

Darren flinched, shifting slightly, trying to form the words. “C… Can you… um…”

A broad, strong hand clamped down on his hip, and he shuddered with pleasure as Matt’s fingers dragged over the tight ring of his ass, stroking rougher now, and faster. 

“Fuck. Yes.”

Smirking, Matt pushed inside deeply, working himself down to the knuckle and holding Darren still, loving every jerk and desperate mewl he earned as his finger pulled out and pressed back in over and over again. 

Darren strained, muscles clenching and releasing in rapid succession out of his control, moaning at the burn and the perfect ache of Matt working him open. He was panting now, unravelling and helpless under Matt’s grip as he kept up a devastating pace, adding another finger and stretching, teasing, gliding in and out of him roughly, almost too fast. 

Lost in the dizzying swaps of sensation, Darren let out short, needy whimpers as he felt himself open up, more than he’d ever been before, exposed and raw under Matt’s touch.

“Fuck _me,_ ” Matt whispered in awe, and kept moving, kept holding too tight as he rose to his knees.

“Jesus,” Darren groaned. “I - that’s -” He’d never been this open before, but it didn’t take long to realise why Matt had spent so much time preparing.

The sudden, hot drag of Matt’s cock over his hole made him twist against the cushions, made his ass jerk up helplessly in need before he felt it settle in the cleft of his cheeks, heavy and burning on sensitive skin.

“Holy fuck,” he breathed, suddenly all too aware of the sheer size of it.

“Still want it rough?” Matt asked teasingly, dragging firm fingers down the twitching muscles of Darren’s sweat-soaked back.

“Fuck, fuck, jesus, shit, fuck,” Darren panted in gunfire bursts, eyes screwed tightly shut as he buried his mouth against the cushion, muscles squeezing around the empty ache that remained. “Yes, just. Fuck. Come on.”

He braced himself as best he could, sweat-damp and trying to still the tremor of his thighs.

The cushions dipped by his side as Matt shifted for balance, finding a decent angle before he took Darren’s hips in both hands, guiding him, and then the blunt, thick head of his cock pushed against Darren’s hole.

Darren choked out a broken sound, hips rocking back and taking him, body shuddering and mind reeling with the sudden, exquisite rush of pain and pleasure mixing so fast and scaling the ladder of his spine.

Matt didn’t slow down, kept pushing deeper, and Darren moaned obscenely with every inch, certain so many times there couldn’t be more before there was. By the time Matt’s hips met flush with his ass, Darren’s whole body was frozen, lingering on the precipice of pain and mind-shattering pleasure, lost in the incredible weight of being so completely, perfectly full.

He didn’t need to ask Matt to move, he was already sliding back, shifting his knees and rocking his hips in sharp bursts that made Darren choke out useless sound.

It didn’t take long for his body to rise to it, for the long-sleeping need of _harder_ and _more_ and _now_ to overtake any cognitive control, and soon he was thrusting back helplessly, fucking himself on Matt’s cock in needy, frantic jerks.

Matt was grunting, his breathing loud and just as broken, and every thrust was met with a sharp, echoing slap of skin as his hipbones met the flesh of Darren’s ass each time, pounding feverishly, certain to bruise.

Coiled in the ecstasy of too much sensation, Darren barely felt the hands sweeping over his back, the cut of nails in his skin, the sudden fist in his hair, lifting him up onto all fours. He moved with the brutal pull, crying out and rocking desperately, letting Matt hold him in place.

His vision was a haze of black spots and the after-wash of red sunlight behind his eyelids, his body seizing and shuddering as Matt fucked him harder, owning him and marking him with the sharp pounding slaps of his hips and the scrapes of strong fingers. 

He was close, he was too close, and the weight inside, the perfect, body-splitting pleasure, would be gone again the moment it was over. He whined, grinding back desperately, alight with the sweet panic that always came in waves before his orgasm.

He was dragged back in a rush, thrown off balance, pulled into Matt’s lap, and his back met Matt’s chest with another vicious, wet slap. Two strong arms coiled around his waist, sliding over his chest as Matt pressed rough, wet kisses along his shoulder and over the column of his neck.

Overwhelmingly full and held in an impossible grip, Darren shivered and twitched against the body behind him, beneath him, his muscles squeezing down around the too-big (too thick, too much, _perfect_ ) cock buried deep in his ass.

Matt’s hands landed on his thighs, spreading them wider, forcing his ass tighter around him, and Darren wanted to scream at the intensity, the breathtaking pleasure, so close to pain.

“Shh,” Matt whispered against his throat, lifting an arm to coil around his stomach and using the other to slowly curl his fingers around Darren’s flushed and leaking cock.

“Oh god,” Darren moaned, tipping his head back onto Matt’s shoulder as Matt started pumping him slowly, thumb dragging too hard up the length of him and sliding over the head.

“FUCK!” Darren screamed, thrashing in Matt’s grip as he let out sharp gun-fire breaths. His body arched violently and he cried out as he came in thick stripes over Matt’s fist.

Weightless for too long, he suddenly slumped back against his chest, numb and twitching intermittently in the aftershocks of his orgasm. His brain drifted on a sea of stars awash with sunlight, lost somewhere between remembering what words were and the memory of sound when he felt Matt move inside of him.

“Hnnnh,” he whined, oversensitive and still riding out the fading tremors.

“Fucking gorgeous,” Matt breathed, his voice strained and barely there as he shifted his hips and tried to move again.

As he came back to himself, Darren could feel the thick pressure of him still inside, still deep and locked in place by the twitching muscles of his own body. With what was left of his strength he rose up and slipped back, balanced on his knees, pumping his hips slowly and fucking himself on Matt’s cock.

Matt’s head tipped back with a broken moan, and his grip loosened around Darren’s waist, hand slipping off his softening cock and resting on his thighs as he rocked. 

It didn’t take long for Matt to follow, scrambling suddenly to hold on, to keep from falling as he buried himself to the hilt and came hard, biting down on Darren’s shoulder to muffle his cry.

Darren jolted, almost lifted off his knees with the force of it, sucking in sharp bursts of air at the wave of perfect heat that swept through him. He gasped at the slick drag as Matt pulled out excruciatingly slowly, and let them both fall flat in a panting heap on the too-small couch.

The whistle in Darren’s ears was numbing, more so than the crushing weight of Matt on top of him, and he felt his muscles twitch and flutter at the sudden hollow feeling that coiled deep in his body.

He felt open, and perfectly, exquisitely owned - exhausted and warm under a weight he’d been waiting for for so long.

After a lingering pause filled only with the rhythm of their breathing, Darren huffed out a laugh. 

“I am … gonna be… _covered_ ,” he panted, “in bruises tomorrow.”

Matt chuckled on top of him, pressing a quick kiss to his shoulder. “Hey, I worked hard on those,” he said in sleepy, mock-serious tones. “If they don’t at least spell out my name I’ll be disappointed.”

Darren let his nose scrunch up as he laughed silently, revelling in the tingling, prickling sensation of being too hot, and too damp, and utterly satisfied all at once.

Matt’s mouth on his skin again brought him out of his daze, and he hummed contentedly at the sweep of soft, wet kisses that lead over his shoulder to the top of his spine. Matt stayed there, lips ghosting over the curve of his neck, breath tickling at his hairline.

“God,” Darren said softly, eyelashes fluttering as he tried to find bigger words than _yes_ and _so good_ and _thank you_. “I n- I needed that.”

“Mmm,” Matt hummed, and Darren could hear his smile. “You and me both,” a tiny kiss, “fuck, you’re gorgeous,” a kitten lick behind the shell of his ear, “especially when you come.”

Darren smiled weakly. “Feel free to … write your name again…” he mumbled. “If, you know. You need practice with your… handwriting.”

Matt snorted softly and settled, eyes drifting closed.

“Next time I’ll write you a letter.”


End file.
